Poisoned
by zerodawn22
Summary: Fleurmione sequel to 'Swallowing Poison.' Ron & Hermione have been in hiding since Harry's death and Voldemort's victory. They come out of hiding to infiltrate the Death Eaters through Bellatrix Lestrange. While at Malfoy Manor, Hermione finds Fleur and is torn between saving the blonde and focussing on her mission. There is also a bigger question: Does Fleur even want to be saved?


_**A/N: So this is the Fleurmione sequel to a story I wrote a while ago, 'Swallowing Poison.' I'm curious as to what you think and if you are interested in the concept... How you would be interested in seeing the story play out. **_

**TW: Kind of dubcon (BellatrixFleur); overall quite dark; violence; could get graphic in later chapters.**

* * *

**Chapter 1.**

Hermione wiped sweat off her brow, perspiring against the hot summer heat. She sat next to Ron on a dried out log that reminded her of a thick skeleton. The sun was beating down on them but neither seemed to notice, deep in conversation.

Both looked worn down and exhausted, as if they hadn't slept properly in years. In truth, they hadn't really. Not since Voldemort had risen to power and killed their best friend, Harry.

They had been on the run ever since, never staying anywhere for long. They managed to stop in on friends and family, but only ever briefly. Many were in Azkaban, forced into hard labour, or otherwise in hiding. Any others were struggling to get by, as new legislation passed by Voldemort meant that only purebloods were allowed most rights in society.

Hermione, previously pasty and unathletic from her time spent in libraries, was now toned and tanned from constantly being on the move in the wilderness. Ron too, was now more athletic than gangly, and his skin was permanently tanned a well-sunned pink tone. Their faces though, were the most striking. Previously full of spark and life, both of them appeared solemn and serious. The twenty year olds were a far cry from the innocent teens they had been before Voldemort came to power.

They had been staying in an old hiking hut on a remote track for a few weeks now, planning their next move.

It had been a while in planning, but they were finally feeling desperate enough, angry enough, and bold enough to put it into action. They were going to attempt to go undercover into the Death Eaters. With Voldemort's stronghold in Britain, it seemed the only way to get close enough to the high ranking Death Eaters in order to end his reign.

"So we have the masks and robes from that lot we took out over in Sussex," Ron commented, kicking his feet impatiently into the dirt, "We just have to decide the best way to infiltrate."

"Well, we know the meetings in London tend to be the ones where Death Eaters get allocated positions amongst the prominent leaders," Hermione commented, wiping her forehead absent-mindedly, "If we go to the Leaky Cauldron and start from there, we should be able to get some leads… And hopefully find some Death Eaters to tag along with."

"Great," Ron replied, relieved that they were finally at the end of killing time in hiding, "Assuming we find Death Eaters and assuming they are connected to someone prominent enough… Now we just have to take care of are our appearances."

They both stood up now, eager to get going. Hermione withdrew a wand, still unfamiliar in her hand. Their original wands were long gone, lost years ago when Harry was still with them.

"What are you feeling like?" Hermione asked. They had changed their appearances countless times through the years, whether by wandwork or Polyjuice. But considering they didn't know how long they would be stuck in these appearances for, it seemed polite to ask this time.

"Black hair," Ron replied. Hermione cast the familiar spell, colouring Ron's hair jet black.

"Yeah? Any other preferences?" Hermione asked.

"Pale skin," Ron replied, his lips forming a thin line, "Green eyes."

"You know I can't make you look too much like him," Hermione said softly. Ron frowned, but nodded.

Hermione quietly changed Ron's freckled pink skin to a skin-tone more pale, thus removing evidence of his redhead colouring. She hesitated before changing his eyes green. Ron had a beard now, he wouldn't look like too similar to Harry. She finished the touches by shortening Ron's nose and changing the shape of his ears and chin slightly. Just enough that it would give him a different face shape to his usual one.

"Okay, I'll do you," Ron said grimly, aiming his wand at Hermione. Hermione felt cool breezes ripple over her as Ron made quick work of the spellwork. Once he was done, he moved away quickly to dig through his backpack.

Hermione pulled out a small shard of a mirror, a memento from Harry. She caught sight of her appearance. Her eyes were now green too, her facial features changed to be slightly more angular, and her hair was long and straight.

"You just made my hair a shade darker," Hermione commented.

"I like you as a brunette," Ron grunted, standing up with two dark robes in his hands.

"Here goes nothing," Hermione muttered, taking the robe from Ron and pulling it on.

They got ready in silence, straightening their robes before turning to each other.

"Okay… The last time we'll be Ron and Hermione for a while," Ron said, trying to sound enthusiastic. Hermione appreciated the effort to keep the mood up, even though they both knew their happiness was long gone.

* * *

"I'm ready," Hermione said, coming to stand by Ron.

Ron pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair.

"Don't get yourself killed, 'Mione," Ron said fiercely.

"That goes for you too," Hermione replied.

Ron drew back, kissing Hermione chastely on the cheek. There was no passion or tension in it. Any chance of romance between them had died the day Harry had.

They held hands tightly, apparating away.

Ron and Hermione arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. It was busy, but the mood was considerably more sombre than it had been before the war. Most people around them were dressed in the black garb of the Death Eaters.

Ron moved to the bar, ordering them two butterbeers.

"Papers?" the surly bartender grunted.

"Sorry, mate?" Ron asked. The bartender sighed and ran a hand over his balding head. His face was scarred and he had a tired look about him.

"Papers," he repeated firmly, "We only serve purebloods here."

"Oh, right," Ron mumbled. Hermione quickly sifted in her beaded bag, producing the documents she had forged carefully in advance. She handed them to Ron.

The bartender squinted at them carefully, comparing the documents to Ron and Hermione before finally nodding.

"Comin' right up,"

Ron relaxed his shoulders, shooting Hermione a nervous smile.

Once they had their drinks in their hands, Ron and Hermione began to move around the room, trying to find some obvious Death Eaters to sidle up to. Ron elbowed Hermione as they heard familiar voices standing around a leaner.

"Yeah, so Aunt Bella needs some extra help around the Manor," Draco was drawling. He didn't look well, appearing stressed and tired, but it seemed he was keeping up appearances in front of his friends.

"Doesn't she have enough help with all those creatures she has doing the housework?" Pansy Parkinson said, wrinkling her nose.

"Nah, nah, she needs help with tasks for the Dark Lord," Malfoy said confidentially, smoothing his hair back.

"I don't think so, mate," Gregory Goyle replied, "Your aunt is prone to throwing the Crucios around like mad."

"She's just energetic," Malfoy said with a dismissive hand, although his shoulders noticeably tensed.

"Hey, mate, we're keen," Ron called out, weaving through the crowd to join them and dragging Hermione behind him.

"Really?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow, "Who are you two?"

"Fred and Hester," Hermione lied, going with the names they had decided on for their fake IDs. Malfoy looked at them carefully, crossing his arms.

For a horrible moment, Hermione wondered if he could see through their disguised appearances.

"You're Death Eaters?" Malfoy asked suspiciously. Ron and Hermione nodded, lifting their sleeves slightly to show their carefully faked Dark Marks.

"What school did you go to?" Malfoy asked, still appearing suspicious. Parkinson and Goyle were eying them carefully too.

"Hogwarts," Ron replied. Hermione hoped they didn't appear too nervous.

"I went there and I don't remember either of you," Malfoy said warily, "Who was in your year? What house were you in?"

"We were both in Ravenclaw," Ron said casually, "Same year as, erm, Bill Weasley."

The Slytherin trio snorted.

"Fucking Weasleys," Goyle cursed. Pansy nodded.

"Think that Bill ended up in the mines," Malfoy smirked, "Doubt he'll last long up there. Filthy blood traitor family. Such a waste of pure blood."

Hermione could see Ron's hands tighten into fists. Impressively, Ron kept his composure.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ron said in a strained voice, "What a waste of space."

Malfoy relaxed then, finally beginning to look appeased.

"Okay… Well she's asked me to bring at least ten people over to the Manor to help her with this project," Malfoy confided in them, "But so far I've only managed to get me and Pansy here."

"Why the lack of volunteers?" Hermione asked curiously, "Bellatrix Lestrange has to be one of the most prominent Death Eater leaders."

"My aunt has a bit of a reputation for her temper," Malfoy said, paling a little, "Kind of outweighs the prestige at times."

"We can handle it," Ron assured. Malfoy smiled slightly then.

"Okay, well four is better than two I suppose," Malfoy mumbled, running his hands through his hair nervously. He still wore it in its slicked back style, though it was slightly longer and messier these days. Pansy squeezed Malfoy's arm reassuringly.

"It'll be fine, Draco," Pansy encouraged.

Pansy's thick raven black hair was longer than back at Hogwarts. Her skin was still tanned but her face had lost the puppy fat that had given it a pug-like appearance. Hermione noted she was actually almost pretty, if it weren't for the cold look in her grey eyes.

"You aren't cautious of her temper?" Hermione asked Pansy, curious.

Pansy laughed, a cold bark of a laugh.

"Bellatrix is a strong leader," Pansy sneered, "Those who can't handle working for her are weak."

Ron shot a careful glance at Hermione. Her arm, now carefully concealed with a glamour charm, still bore the marks of her torture from Bellatrix all those years ago. Hermione kept a straight face, though her jaw tensed. She doubted Pansy would last long being tortured by Bellatrix. Hermione took a long, calming breath.

"So when do we start?" Hermione asked coolly.

* * *

Hermione and Ron trailed behind Pansy and Draco up the path to Malfoy Manor. Somehow it seemed even more imposing than in Hermione's memory. The Manor was painted entirely black, stark against the blue sky and beating down sun. Peacocks were still strutting around the grounds as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

They passed numerous Death Eaters patrolling the area, wands at the ready. It seemed security was tight around Bellatrix. It made sense seeing as she was Voldemort's second in command.

Draco seemed to hesitate at the doors of his family's Manor. For somewhere that had been his childhood home, he seemed terrified. Pansy put a hand on his shoulder firmly and Draco knocked, muttering a password.

The large ornate doors swung open, letting them in to a large dark entranceway. It made Hermione feel as if she were entering an enormous cave.

It was eerie walking through the Manor. The last time Ron and Hermione had been there was years ago when they had been captured by Death Eaters. Hermione didn't like to think about it too hard. Not only had it involved excruciating torture, but it had also been the result of disguised appearances not quite working. The thought of that made Hermione nervous.

She squeezed her fists tightly as they made their way through into a sitting room. A man in a black shirt and black three-piece suit was standing by a fireplace. He had long stringy black hair that went down to his chin and fell partway over his face. His face was long and thin, ending in a spiky goatee. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, although his pale and strained complexion made it difficult to tell.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," the man introduced himself as he turned around to face the group.

"Hello uncle," Draco replied in a strained voice, "These are the people I rounded up for the project. You know Pansy, and this is Fred and Hester."

"You didn't round up many people," Rodolphus replied with displeasure. Draco dipped his head guiltily.

"Please forgive me," Draco asked quietly. Hermione and Ron looked sideways at Draco. The blonde had paled even further. He looked terrified.

"Never mind," Rodolphus replied, "I have gathered a few extra people myself. I anticipated you would struggle. We can't have Bella disappointed after all."

At this Rodophus gestured at three young men sitting on a couch in the room. Hermione now turned her attention to them. They all appeared to be in their twenties. Two were dark haired and one had a mess of dirty blonde hair. They all appeared emotionless and pale.

"Where is aunt Bella?" Draco asked.

Hermione began to wonder what the project was. She hoped it wasn't anything too terrible. Ron and her had previously agreed that they would fully commit to whatever they had to in order to infiltrate the Death Eaters. That didn't mean that Hermione would be comfortable with torturing innocent people in order to keep her cover.

"She will be down shortly," Rodolphus replied to Draco, "In the meantime we need to retire to the dining room for dinner."

The group adjourned to the room next door, Hermione and Ron sticking close to each other. Hermione sat down between Ron and Pansy, across from the three young men and Draco. Rodolphus sat himself at the end of the table. The head of the table was left empty, presumably for Bellatrix.

Rodolphus pulled his wand out, muttering quietly. Almost instantaneously, figures began marching into the room, carrying trays. There were a number of House Elves, a boy of about seventeen, and a large man who appeared half giant. All of them were dressed in black, with shining silver bracelets gleaming in the candlelight.

Hermione noticed this with distaste. The Lestranges were clearly exploiting those with mixed blood status who could not find work anywhere else in the post-war world.

The staff placed goblets in front of all of the guests, and one at the empty space at the head of the table. They filed out of the room again without saying a word.

There was the clicking of heels and Hermione felt the hair on the back of her neck raise as the familiar figure of Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room. She was dressed in an elegant black gown, her twisting black hair tumbling down her shoulders. She swept into the room, her dark eyes surveying the guests, a smirk curling at her blood red lips.

"Draco…" Bellatrix greeted, sitting down at the head of the table and scooping up her goblet of wine, "Not quite the turnout I had in mind."

Draco was almost trembling he looked so nervous.

"I-I tried as hard as I could, Aunt Bella," Draco stammered. Bellatrix laughed in her raspy voice, startling everyone at the table.

"We will make do," Bellatrix said grandly, "The main thing is we deliver this project to success for the Dark Lord."

"Amen to that," Rodolphus said passionately, slapping the table.

"A toast," Bellatrix said, grinning, "To the Dark Lord,"

"To the Dark Lord," the room replied, raising their goblets in toast. Hermione ignored the disgusted turn of her stomach as she toasted Voldemort. She knew that was probably going to be one of the least repulsive thing she had to do during the undercover mission.

"What exactly is this project we're going to be working on?" Ron ventured. Hermione gripped his knee under the table. Bellatrix was famously unpredictable, her mood changing in a split second. Fortunately, Bellatrix kept beaming.

"All in due time," Bellatrix replied, "First, I want introductions. Then we will eat. I'll show you to your quarters that you will be staying in and then we will outline the project over some refreshments later this evening."

They went around the table introducing themselves. The young men on Draco's side of the table introduced themselves as Alexander, Will and Peter. Bellatrix still appeared in good spirits at the end of introductions. It unnerved Hermione. Her scarred arm throbbed as she waited for Bellatrix's mood to turn.

"Excellent," Bellatrix grinned, tenting her fingers in front of her, "A small group, but a promising group nonetheless. Well, shall we share in some dinner?"

She withdrew her wand and Hermione flinched. Thankfully, so did Draco, so it didn't appear out of the ordinary.

Bellatrix muttered to herself quietly before putting her wand away again.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to relax around Bellatrix and her wand.

More staff filed into the room, even more than before. They were carrying heaping platters of food that were being placed on the table. A flash of white-blonde caught Hermione's eye and her jaw dropped slightly. She elbowed Ron. His eyes widened.

Fleur Delacour, dressed in a simple black dress, eyes downcast, was waiting for her turn to deposit a platter of food on the table. One of the large silver bracelets adorned her slender wrist. It reminded Hermione terribly of a collar.

"Jesus," Ron hissed under his breath, "How bad have things got since we last saw everyone?"

The part giant man placed down his large platter of meats before stepping back. Fleur moved forward, placing her silver platter of salad on the table. As she leaned forward, Peter, who was on his fourth wine already, placed a hand on the part-Veela's ass.

Quick as a flash, Bellatrix was at her feet, storming over to Peter and slamming his head into the table with a loud _slam!_

Fleur and the rest of the staff withdrew, keeping their eyes downcast, flitting nervously at the edges of the room. Ron stiffened in his seat beside Hermione.

"Urghhh," Peter lifted his head dizzily from the table, blood gushing from his nose.

"_Don't_ touch what isn't yours, boy," Bellatrix hissed in a dangerous tone, her pale hand still gripping Peter's dark hair.

"I-I-I'm sorry," Peter stammered.

"Next time I'll cut that hand off," Bellatrix growled, causing Peter to hold his hands carefully against his chest.

"Th-there won't be a next time Ma'am,"

Bellatrix exhaled heavily, releasing Peter's hair and stepping backwards, seeming to regain her composure. She smoothed down her gown.

Draco was trembling slightly, Hermione noticed. Pansy was leaning forward eagerly, as if anticipating something.

All of a sudden, Bellatrix whipped out her wand and pointed it at Peter.

_"__Crucio,"_ Bellatrix hissed coldly.

Peter screamed, falling from his chair and clattering his goblet off the table.

"One of you clean that up," Bellatrix barked at the staff. A house elf obediently stepped forward to mop up the spilled wine.

Bellatrix stalked back to the head of the table, her heels clicking on the wooden floors ominously. Peter continued to writhe and scream as Bellatrix sat down, delicately spearing an asparagus with her fork.

"The asparagus is lovely, dear," Rodolphus said cheerily from across the table. The Lestranges both appeared entirely unaffected by the loud cries of pain coming from Peter on the floor.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Bellatrix said with a smile, looking around the table, "Dig in!"

The group didn't need telling twice, all diving in to their food.

"Dismissed," Rodolphus directed to the staff still flitting around the edges of the room. They all obediently filed out. Hermione watched Fleur carefully as she left. Her white blonde hair swayed down her back as she kept her face cast downwards. Hermione wondered what on Earth could have happened for the proud ice queen to end up in servitude like this.

The meal continued uneventfully, though the table remained tense. Peter sobbed quietly for a while after the Cruciatus curse ended, before wiping the blood from his nose and re-joining the table. He made no further movement or conversation, terrified.

After the meal, Bellatrix and Rodolphus retired, disappearing into the Manor. The guests were led to their quarters by staff with instructions to meet Bellatrix in the smoking room in a few hours. Unfortunately, Fleur was not one of the staff assigned to guide them, so Hermione and Ron were unable to talk to her.

A very short woman that Hermione suspected was part-dwarf stopped Hermione and Pansy, gesturing at an ornate door. Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes at having to share a room with Pansy. Back at Hogwarts she had loathed Pansy. She had a feeling that Pansy growing up to be a Death Eater was hardly going to make her more relatable.

The room was large. An ornate ceiling imposed above them, a large chandelier hanging from it. There were two small but luxurious double beds at either side of the room, each with a matching set of drawers.

"Homely, but it will do," Pansy drawled arrogantly, striding into the room.

Hermione, who for the past few years had slept in nothing but makeshift beds, tents and rundown shacks, felt herself eye the luxury beds with longing.

Pansy threw herself back to lie on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Do you work on many of these projects?" Hermione asked, making conversation while eying the room for anything sinister.

"No guts, no glory," Pansy said, staring at the ceiling, "Look how well Bellatrix has done for herself. If I prove myself to the Dark Lord, soon I'll be the one living it up in a mansion, a heap of half-breed and mudblood staff waiting on me hand and foot."

"So you're hoping to find fame in the Death Eaters," Hermione surmised, now looking at Pansy. She looked different to school-times, but Hermione still found it hard to resolve that such a headstrong witch would be content just following orders for the rest of her life.

"No shit," Pansy shot back arrogantly, "You clearly haven't been on the invite list for some of the more _exclusive _events. If you impress the Dark Lord, you've got it made."

Pansy sighed contentedly, looking up at the ceiling, clearly fantasizing over her future. Hermione shook her head. She decided she would spend the hours before the group reconvened exploring the Manor some more.

Muttering something about finding a bathroom, Hermione slipped out of the bedroom. The hallways all seemed very similar, dark, long and full of ornate doors. Many were open, allowing Hermione the ability to mentally note where some things were.

She walked past the open doorway of an incredibly large study. The room's walls were packed with books. Hermione stopped in her feet, taking in the sight. _This could be useful later on_, Hermione thought to herself. She noticed Rodolphus in an armchair, smoking a cigar and reading a book. Hermione decided to hurry on.

She passed a doorway that was evidently the room that the three young men joining them were staying in. Alexander and Will were loudly chastising Peter for the disaster at dinner. Hermione frowned, remembering how everyone had just continued on as if nothing was happening while Peter was suffering from the Cruciatus curse. It brought back uncomfortable memories of her own torture at this Manor all those years ago.

Hermione saw a flash of white-blonde hair on the stairway at the end of the hall. _Fleur._ Hermione was convinced if she could reveal who she was to Fleur, they would be able to use her for their infiltration.

Hermione headed down the hallway and up the stairway in the direction that Fleur had been moving. Upstairs, there were even more doors. Hermione bit her lip, maybe she had lost Fleur.

Some of the doors were ajar, Hermione peeking through them as she moved along. An empty music room. A small potions studio that was being cleaned by some house elves. A number of closed doors that Hermione dared not to open. The last thing she wanted to do was ignite Bellatrix's temper and get kicked out on the very first night.

Hermione supposed if that happened she could always create a new false identity. But it had taken them so long to create the last identity documents it really wasn't much of an option.

Hermione came across another doorway with a door slightly ajar. She tentatively moved to peer in. It was a large extravagant bedroom, with a four poster king sized bed and expensive art on the walls. Hermione noticed Fleur immediately. Fleur was standing in front of Bellatrix, so close they were almost touching. Hermione felt her stomach clench in fear for the Frenchwoman. She hoped she wasn't about to witness Fleur's torture at the hands of the madwoman.

Bellatrix reached forward with a sneer, cupping Fleur's cheek. Hermione's breath froze in her throat, unsure of what was going to happen next. Was Bellatrix mad at Fleur for what had happened at the dinner table?

Before Hermione could think on this any further, Fleur leaned in and captured Bellatrix's lips with her own. Hermione's jaw dropped, watching with horror as Bellatrix pulled Fleur in close to her, passionately making out with her.

_No, no, no, no_, Hermione thought frantically, _This can't be happening… Was Fleur always on their side? Was her entire marriage to Bill an undercover operation? _

Bellatrix's hand had tangled in Fleur's hair and suddenly fisted, drawing Fleur's head back from her painfully. Hermione watched with renewed interest, still trying to work out exactly what was going on.

Bellatrix forced Fleur to her knees in front of her. Hermione bit her lip. Maybe Fleur was being held prisoner after all.

But then, with a large grin, Bellatrix began hitching up her gown.

Hermione watched in horror as Fleur performed oral sex on Voldemort's second in command. Bellatrix's head was thrown back, letting out pleasured cries as Fleur knelt before her. The thick bracelet on Fleur's wrist was glinting in the candlelight, giving Hermione even more of an uneasy feeling. She just couldn't work out what on Earth was going on.

As Hermione resolved to back away from the doorway, Bellatrix raised her head, her eyes suddenly snapping open and connecting directly with Hermione's. Hermione felt herself go numb. She was about to be tortured by Bellatrix, she knew it. She had come all this way and survived all these years just to end up back at Malfoy Manor being tortured to death by Bellatrix. She stumbled backwards.

Bellatrix's eyes stayed on her for a moment before moving down to look at Fleur. Hermione took the opportunity to scramble away.

Hermione sprinted down the hallway and downstairs, before leaning against a wall, panting. She threw her head back to rest against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. She couldn't believe what she had just seen.

"Hester, right?"

Hermione's eyes snapped open, horrified. Bellatrix was standing in front of her, arms crossed. Fleur was nowhere in sight.

"Erm, yeah," Hermione replied.

"You look familiar," Bellatrix husked, cocking her head to one side. Hermione's heart was thumping in her chest now, convinced that Bellatrix was about to discover her real identity.

"Uh, do I?" Hermione replied innocently.

"You young Death Eaters all look the same," Bellatrix said finally, shaking her head, "Trembling in your boots. Tell me, do you always spy on others?"

"It was an accident," Hermione replied immediately, "I certainly won't be telling anyone else about what I saw."

Bellatrix smiled slowly, stepping back slightly from Hermione.

"I like you, Hester," Bellatrix replied, "You could do well here."

Bellatrix turned on her heel, her gown sweeping elegantly, before disappearing back upstairs. Hermione exhaled shakily, feeling very much like she had just dodged a bullet.

She pushed herself off the wall, turning back in the direction of her quarters. She perked up as she saw Ron walking towards her.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, "I tried to find you right after we put our stuff in our rooms. I'm only bloody sharing with Malfoy, the prat. You'd think his aunt would give him a room of his own."

Hermione pulled Ron into a tight hug, surprising him.

"You'll never guess what I just saw," Hermione whispered.

She told Ron everything that had happened since she had left her own room. Ron's eyes widened and his eyebrows raised.

"No way," Ron replied stoutly, "Fleur's married to Bill! And-and Bellatrix is _evil_! Not to mention a _woman_!"

"I know what I saw," Hermione insisted, "I don't know what to tell you."

"Imperius? Threats? Blackmail?" Ron suggested, "There's no way she's here of her own choice."

Hermione sighed.

"Well, whether she is or not, we can't do anything in the short term," Hermione replied, "We can't afford to blow our cover this early on."

Ron growled, slamming his palm against a wall.

"I knew this was gonna be hard, but bloody hell," Ron said angrily.

"Its only going to get harder," Hermione replied softly, reaching out and squeezing Ron's shoulder.

* * *

Later on, Ron and Hermione made their way to the smoking room. A number of couches and armchairs were scattered about the vast room. The large half-giant man was tending to an enormous fireplace.

Ron and Hermione selected a seat together on one of the couches. Pansy floated in soon after them, sitting on Hermione's other side. Her face was lit up with excitement. It made Hermione feel a little nauseous.

Draco and the other boys filed in, all finding seats around the fireplace. Draco was still pale and nervous looking. Hermione supposed that wasn't a good sign for what was to come.

Rodolphus strutted into the room, still in his immaculate black suit. His hair was still lank around his face. He took the armchair closest to the fire, crossing his leg and producing a cigar and small matchbook from his jacket pocket.

Hermione wondered if he knew about Fleur and Bellatrix. She wondered if he even cared. He had an aloof demeanour about him.

Rodolphus lit up his cigar as more staff entered the room, bearing trays of red wine. A house elf approached Rodolphus, who took a glass before nudging the elf away with his foot.

Bellatrix finally entered the room. She was now dressed in skinny dress trousers, a black shirt with the buttons undone to her chest and a black suit jacket. She was wearing killer heels and her hair was in loose tangles. Her bright red lipstick was quirked in a smirk.

Hermione thought about how different Bellatrix looked nowadays. When Hermione and the others had been held captive during the Horcrux hunt, Bellatrix had still been fresh from Azkaban. She had a starved look to her back then, messy hair, rotting teeth. The gowns she wore then were moth eaten and ragged. Clearly Voldemort had been treating her well. The grin she bared now revealed perfect white teeth.

"Now the moment you've all been waiting for," Bellatrix announced grandly, placing her hands on her hips.

Pansy leaned forward in anticipation, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes.

"The project we are all about to embark on is going to place your names on the map. By the time we're done, the Dark Lord will know all of your names," Bellatrix said in her husky voice, before cackling.

"Get to the point, dear," Rodolphus groaned over Bellatrix's laughter. Bellatrix stopped laughing abruptly, wrenching Rodolphus from his armchair and throwing him violently to the floor. She turned on the rest of the group, her eyes once mirthful, now flashing with rage.

"We are going on a hunting expedition," Bellatrix said slowly, "We are going to hunt down every single Order member that remains at large."

Hermione's stomach dropped so painfully that she briefly felt she was going to throw up. She could feel Ron tense beside her.

"You want them dead or alive?" Pansy asked.

"Use your best judgment," Bellatrix said, gracing Pansy with a pleased smile. Her mood was all over the show. Hermione didn't know whether to expect another sudden jerk into rage again.

"So we can kill 'em all?" Peter asked. Bellatrix rounded on Peter.

"Well of course you _can_ kill them all; you buffoon," Bellatrix growled, "But should you? Say you catch the Lovegood girl—don't you think she could lead you to one of the others in hiding?"

"What about ones that aren't in hiding?" Alexander asked, "Does it count if we catch one of the older Weasleys? None of them are in hiding. The parents are sitting ducks in their house and I think the older brothers are out in the mines."

Ron reached out and took Hermione's hand tightly, trembling slightly.

"You think Potter's girlfriend or his sidekick would be stupid enough to tell their parents or siblings where they are? Have you even heard of Veritaserum? If any of them knew anything, they would be in hiding too," Bellatrix bellowed, her voice rising with her anger.

"I-I mean, they might…" Alexander stuttered.

Bellatrix whipped out her wand and without even a word, Alexander was jerked into the air from his seat before being slammed onto the ground.

"F-Fuck…" Alexander spluttered, having bit his lip. Blood was beginning to bead on his already swelling lip.

"Crucio," Bellatrix intoned coldly.

Hermione tried to block out the screams of the young man as he began to buck in pain on the floor. Rodolphus watched with amusement, giggling slightly.

Bellatrix turned her attention back to the rest of the group.

"Order members _in hiding_," Bellatrix emphasised, "You find them, you bring them back here. You get to share in the glory."

The room all nodded, apart from Rodolphus, who was still watching Alexander with unbridled amusement.

"I want you to start tomorrow," Bellatrix continued, "And I don't want any of you coming home for the day without any leads. Drink up tonight because the hard work starts tomorrow!"

Bellatrix raised her glass. Pansy, Draco, Peter and Will mirrored her action, cheering.

The madwoman smiled slightly at this, her rage seeming to subside again. Hermione felt Ron finally release her hand.

"It'll be okay," Hermione muttered quietly to him.

Pansy immediately rose and went to talk to Bellatrix eagerly. The rest of the room set to chatting amongst each other and making their way through the wine on offer.

Hermione and Ron got to their feet, shuffling closer to a corner of the room hoping to talk privately. Unfortunately, Draco strode over to them.

"Fred, Hester," Draco greeted, sipping at his wine, "Ready for the task at hand?"

"You don't look too ready, mate," Ron retorted, commenting on Draco's pale and nervous demeanour. Hermione elbowed him.

"I have a healthy fear of my Aunt, Fred," Draco sneered, "You would do well to grant her the same respect. Anyway, I was going to ask if you two wanted to accompany me on the hunt? I don't much like the looks of the lads over there."

They all glanced over at Will, Alexander and Peter. Hermione had to admit he had a point, two out of three of the boys had already got on Bellatrix's bad side.

"Do we have to?" Ron instinctively asked, before Hermione elbowed him even harder. Draco scowled.

"Please, Pansy and I went to school with most of the baby Order members," Draco scoffed, "If anyone can recognise them, its us. You should be begging to accompany us."

"We'd be glad to join you," Hermione hastily interrupted, defusing the situation. They didn't need to blow their cover by Ron getting into fisticuffs on day one.

"Great, I'm thinking we will head off after breakfast tomorrow. Those goons over there are unlikely to make a move for a few days at least, it'll give us a good head start," Draco smirked.

The drinks flowed freely throughout the evening, Will getting appallingly drunk with Rodolphus. It made Hermione nervous, she wondered if he was the next of his friend group to get in trouble with Bellatrix.

Bellatrix herself was in high spirits, drunk on wine and enjoying the attention the young Death Eaters were bestowing on her. She glided over to Hermione now. Hermione, while confident now that Bellatrix hadn't seen through her and Ron's disguises, was still not thrilled to speak to the madwoman. However, it would only anger Bellatrix to brush her off, so Hermione affixed a fake smile.

"You think you are going to be able to bring me some little Order brats?" Bellatrix asked with slurring words. Her eyes flashed with a danger that unsettled Hermione. Dark eyes that warned of a mood that could flip in seconds.

"Absolutely," Hermione replied, in a tone she hoped appeared ingratiating. Maybe Bellatrix and Rodolphus would drink until they passed out and Hermione would have another chance to snoop around the Manor.

Bellatrix smiled, apparently appeased, and lit up a cigarette. She took a long drag before blowing the smoke in Hermione's eyes. Hermione scrunched up her nose as the smoke caused her eyes to slightly water.

Across the room, Rodolphus snapped, giggling and suddenly cursing Will. As Will fell to the floor, Rodolphus' mad laughter grew in volume.

"I didn't tell my husband I caught you snooping," Bellatrix smirked, following Hermione's gaze, "He doesn't look kindly on those who cross our family. Spies are almost as bad as blood traitors, or those with filthy blood, you see."

Hermione almost choked on her wine at the mention of 'spies.' She had to change the subject before Bellatrix sensed her discomfort.

"I'm sorry about that, it truly was an accident," Hermione replied, "But can I ask? Isn't that girl part-Veela? I thought you hated people who aren't purebloods."

Bellatrix scoffed darkly.

"She isn't _people_, Hester," Bellatrix laughed, "She's a half-breed. My property to do with what I see fit."

Hermione felt bile rise in her throat at this. But it did raise her hopes that Fleur was merely being held captive. She would have to track down Fleur alone somehow.

"Good point, Bellatrix," Hermione replied, faking a loud laugh. She thanked the gods that Bellatrix was drunk enough not to pull her into further information, as the woman weaved off to get herself another wine.

Hermione sought out Ron who had finally escaped a long winded conversation with Pansy, muttering to him about the latest news on Fleur. He agreed it did offer some hope, but was unable to comment further as Pansy interrupted them, returning with another wine.

Hermione managed to keep a cool head throughout the evening, keeping Ron from reacting to any jibes from the Death Eaters and maintaining their covers. By the time she retired to her room for the evening, she was exhausted. Her head had barely touched the pillow before she had fallen asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione trailed behind Pansy to the dining room. Thankfully, neither Rodolphus or Bellatrix were present at the table. The only other ones at the table were Ron and Draco.

"Morning Drac', morning Fred," Pansy greeted cheerily, sitting down and pulling a napkin over her lap.

Hermione mumbled greetings, a little concerned at how Ron and her were going to keep up their covers if they actually did manage to find Order members with Draco and Pansy.

Staff soon appeared bearing trays, setting them down on the table. A large array of food was spread out, from toast to porridge to cereals. It reminded Hermione a lot of Hogwarts. Her chest ached painfully at the sudden memory of breakfasts with Harry and Ron. No matter how much time passed, it was always painful to think back on her time with Harry.

Hermione was pulled from her reverie as she noticed Fleur enter the room, placing a tray of coffee on the table, her eyes downcast. She turned quickly before elegantly gliding out of the room again.

"Gotta go to the bathroom," Hermione mumbled to the others, getting up and following Fleur out of the room.

She had only just got into the hallway but Fleur was already halfway down the hall.

"Fleur!" Hermione called out. The blonde paused in her steps, allowing Hermione to catch up.

"Oui?" Fleur replied, turning on her heel to face Hermione. She had a proud iciness about her, but was rubbing nervously at the bracelet around her wrist.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked breathlessly. Fleur narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Do I know you?" Fleur asked coolly. Hermione could almost slap herself in the forehead. Of course Fleur wouldn't recognise her in disguise.

"Erm, no," Hermione quickly covered, noticing the other staff milling past them in the hallway, "I just… I followed your publicity during the Triwizard Tournament."

Fleur laughed, a bitter bark of a laugh.

"That was a long time ago," Fleur replied, "I must go, I have work to do."

"Are you under an Imperius or something?" Hermione asked, cocking her head to one side. Fleur frowned, anger clearly bubbling below the surface.

"The Death Eater movement has made it impossible to get work elsewhere," Fleur said in an overly controlled voice, "People with my… Blood status… Are ineligible for most opportunities."

"And Bellatrix?" Hermione pried further. Fleur's eyes widened slightly before her demeanour dropped to sub zero.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Fleur replied curtly, "I really must go."

Before Hermione could say anything else, Fleur had turned and disappeared again with the rest of the staff.

Hermione returned to the dining room, puzzled. She was still no closer to figuring out what the deal was with Fleur.

"Eat up, Her-Hester," Ron said, pulling Hermione back to reality, "It's going to be a big day."

* * *

Hermione was quietly smug that none of the hunches Draco and Pansy had followed had come up with anything. Much of the day had been spent traversing the countryside following up dead ends.

She snuck Ron a pleased grin as they arrived in Hogsmeade, trailing behind Pansy and Draco as they headed in to the Hog's Head.

"What's in here? Beers to polish off the day?" Ron asked hopefully. The sun was beginning to set and they were hoping that the hunt would soon be called off for the day.

"Yes and no," Pansy replied as Draco made some orders at the bar. She had a smug look about her that made Hermione nervous.

The elderly bartender handed them over their beers which they accepted gratefully, taking eager gulps after an active day.

"So what's the big mystery, Pans?" Draco asked. Pansy nodded at the large wooden doors as a ramshackle figure entered the pub.

"The ace up my sleeve," Pansy smirked.

Hermione felt her jaw slacken. The blood had drained from Ron's face.

"Is that…?" Ron began.

"Mundungus Fletcher," Mundungus chirped, holding out hands clad in ratty fingerless gloves. They all refrained from shaking his hand.

"Hello Dungy," Pansy greeted sweetly, "What have you got for us today?"

Mundungus looked around suspiciously, a nervous twitch about him.

"Depends… What have you got for me?" Mundungus asked, still surveying the pub nervously. A hand disappeared to fish around in the pockets of his trench coat. Hermione battled her urge to scowl. She could only imagine how many knick-knacks of Harry's Mundungus had pilfered from Grimmauld Place after Harry's death. Ron had balled his hands into fists, his knuckles white.

Pansy slung her leather handbag off her shoulder, rummaging around in it. Evidently it was subject to an expandable charm, as Pansy withdrew some expensive looking china and candlesticks.

Mundungus' eyes lit up as he eagerly eyed the detailing on the pieces.

"Parkinson family heirlooms," Pansy drawled, pulling them out of Mundungus' reach at the last possible second, "Uh, uh, uhh… Tell me what you know about former Order members."

"Fine," Mundungus growled, rubbing his hands together, "Arthur and Molly Weasley are holed up somewhere in Scotland now. Apparently a couple of hours from Glasgow."

"Don't care," Pansy snarled.

"Okay, okay, what else?" Mundungus wrung his hands, "The eldest Weasley boys—Bill, Charlie and Percy. They're all in the mines in Wales."

"Don't care," Pansy repeated firmly.

"Really? Okay, what else do I know… Ooh! The Lovegood girl? She's hiding out in a little cottage in the forest. I can tell you where exactly if you hand over the goods…"

"How do I know she'll still be there once I give you these valuables?" Pansy frowned. Mundungus exhaled, frustrated.

"She's been stuck there for six months," he exclaimed, "Sources say she's too scared she can't get out of there without being seen."

"Perfect," Pansy smirked, grinning a wide grin, "Now don't go tipping her off, okay?"

"I wouldn't cross you Miss Parkinson," Mundungus replied, eagerly taking the goods in his arms. He bowed politely before retreating to a corner of the pub for a tumbler of firewhisky and to inspect his new items.

"Fucking hell," Ron hissed under his breath, "Snake!"

"What was that?" Draco asked, turning to Ron.

"Score!" Ron lied, pulling a large fake grin on his face, "And on our first day! When are we gonna raid the cottage?"

"All in good time," Pansy said with a self-satisfied smile, "Tonight we should just relax and enjoy our early success. Soon we will have the Dark Lord's praise!"

"Sometimes his attention isn't a good thing," Draco mumbled into his beer, looking down. Hermione exchanged glances with Ron.

She had vague memories of how terrified Draco had looked during the war when they were held captive in Malfoy Manor. How he had fumbled and been unable to kill Dumbledore. Suddenly all the comments about getting off-side with Bellatrix made sense. Hermione wondered if he had been subject to the same level of punishment as other followers. She supposed Bellatrix was hardly likely to be the family-friendly type.

It was dark outside now and Draco and Pansy were wanting to move on to the Three Broomsticks, hoping to meet up with some old Slytherin friends.

"You go on ahead," Ron said, stretching, "We'll probably head back to the Manor."

"Your loss," Pansy replied dismissively, heading out the door with Draco.

Hermione turned to Ron.

"Well, we should head off… With any luck we'll have some time to look around the Manor. Maybe we will find something we can use," Hermione said.

Ron was a little red in the face, looking past Hermione.

"Yeah, in a minute," Ron grunted, pushing past.

Hermione turned around, watching open mouthed as Ron approached Mundungus, pulled him out of his seat by the collar and shoved him into a wall.

"You fucking traitor," Ron hissed, "You're nothing but a snake."

"H-hey man, I never turned on Parkinson," Mundungus stuttered.

"R-Fred," Hermione intervened, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder, trying to yank him off Mundungus. Ron shoved Mundungus into the wall, hard.

"You're lucky," Ron growled, releasing Mundungus.

Hermione pulled Ron out of the Hog's Head and apparated them straight back to her room at the Manor, hoping that the change in scenery would calm him down.

"Everyone trusted him," Ron hissed, narrowing his eyes before turning away from Hermione, "Everyone but Harry, anyway."

Hermione felt her heart shatter all over again at the sudden mention of Harry, tears stinging at her eyes. She missed him so much it was like a constant ache in her chest. Ron turned back to Hermione, noticing her tears. He stepped forward, cupping her face with his large clumsy hands and wiping her tears.

"I miss him so much," Hermione whispered. Ron swallowed heavily.

"I… I miss him too," Ron managed in a cracking voice, "More than I even know how to say in words."

Hermione pulled Ron into a tight hug, feeling his shaky breathing. Her tears flowed freely then, her heart aching for the life they had at Hogwarts. For Harry to still be with them.

The duo finally parted, Ron brushing at his eyes self-consciously and clearing his throat.

"I need another fucking drink," Ron cursed, shuffling the weight between his feet uncomfortably, "I'm gonna head to the kitchen to see if they have any beer. Wanna come?"

Hermione shook her head, wiping at her own eyes and sniffling.

"No… I might see if I can explore the Manor a bit more," Hermione said, regaining her composure.

Ron shrugged awkwardly, turning on his heel and exiting Hermione and Pansy's quarters without another word. Hermione smiled lightly. Ron had always been incredibly awkward when it came to talking feelings. She expected nothing less.

Hermione moved to a mirror, startled by her altered appearance. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to looking at her reflection and not seeing the regular old face of Hermione. She fixed her dark hair and rubbed at her eyes, finally satisfied that she looked semi composed.

She pulled her dark cloak tightly around herself. Bellatrix and Rodolphus seemed to favour keeping the Manor at an icy temperature outside of rooms with fireplaces. Hermione wondered if she should ask a house elf to light the fire in hers and Pansy's room. But the thought of asking one of Bellatrix's enslaved staff for anything disgusted her.

Hermione headed out the door and into the hallway, wondering where she should explore this time. She decided the upper floors of the Manor would be more interesting, seeing as she hadn't got any further than Bellatrix's room last time.

Hermione headed down the hallway towards the staircase, her boots clicking loudly on the wooden floorboards. It was as if the entire Manor were abandoned. It was unsettling.

As Hermione approached the dark staircase, the sound of someone running interrupted her. She froze in her tracks as Bellatrix herself sprinted down the stairs, affixing a cloak around her shoulders.

"Rudolphus?!" Bellatrix shouted, ignoring Hermione, "The Dark Lord wants to see us. _Right now._ Get a fucking move on or I'll leave without you!"

Bellatrix shoved past Hermione, sprinting in the direction of the study.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of Voldemort, but kept her mind on the task at hand. Bellatrix and Rudolphus out of the house meant she had a good window to explore more freely. She ascended the stairs.

Heading down the hallway, Hermione passed the familiar doors she had passed the last time. The empty music room. The potions room. Hermione paused at Bellatrix's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.

Hermione put a palm on the black door, pushing it lightly. The door swung open slowly, revealing the bedroom. The curtains were drawn around Bellatrix's four poster canopy bed. The rest of the room was meticulous except for some papers scattered on a desk at the end of the room.

Glancing at either side, Hermione slowly crept into the room, silently praying that Bellatrix hadn't booby-trapped it.

When nothing happened, Hermione hastened over to the desk, sitting down and looking at the papers with interest. They appeared to be papers on Order Members. Hermione picked up the top paper.

_"__Name: Ginny Weasley_

_Age: 19_

_Appearance: Pale, athletic, blue eyes, red hair_

_Notable connections: She was the girlfriend of H Potter. Youngest child of the blood traitor Weasley family. Confirmed Order of the Phoenix member. Close connections with H Granger, L Lovegood, N Longbottom among others. _

_Last known sighting or intel: Rumours that she may have escaped to Romania to live with older brother's former workmates. Romanian Death Eaters have not reported any sightings. Torture of C Weasley has not revealed any further information."_

A photograph of Ginny was clipped to the sheet of paper. Hermione ran her finger over the photo, her chest aching as she thought of the years that had passed since she had seen her friend.

Hermione froze at a sniffling sound.

Heart thumping, Hermione listened, but didn't hear anything more. She returned to the papers. Bellatrix had profiles of Neville, Luna, Hermione and Ron. It was clear she was focussed on those who had been most closely attached to Harry. Hermione carefully checked the "last sighting or intel" sections for hers and Ron's profiles, relieved when both stated Spain.

Hermione and Ron had put a lot of effort into throwing off Death Eaters over the years. Hermione was beyond thankful that it had paid off.

There was another sniffle and Hermione dropped the papers, getting to her feet and withdrawing her wand. She was sure she had heard it this time. Someone was definitely crying.

Hermione moved stealthily towards the noise, which seemed to be coming from the canopy bed. She had seen Bellatrix leave with her own eyes, so it couldn't be her. Hermione just hoped investigating wasn't about to cost her her cover.

Hermione got to the curtains around the bed, one hand carefully pulling a curtain back while the other hand held her wand firmly. Hermione almost dropped her wand at what she found, a deep blush glowing at her cheeks.

Fleur Delacour was bound by the wrists to Bellatrix's headboard, entirely nude. Her body was littered with angry looking lovebites and scratches. Fleur's eyes were downcast and she was quietly weeping.

"Shit! Sorry!" Hermione yelped, about to take a step back.

"Non, wait!" Fleur said suddenly, looking up at her.

Hermione froze awkwardly, her wand still pointed at Fleur and her hand still on the curtain around the bed.

"Ah… I really shouldn't be here," Hermione said awkwardly, trying to avert her eyes from Fleur's body politely.

"Can you please untie me?" Fleur asked, "She often forgets… If she's not back for hours then it begins to hurt quite badly."

"Sure…" Hermione said slowly, before getting an idea, "If you answer a question for me."

Fleur cursed in French, rolling her eyes.

"You Death Eaters always want _something_," Fleur hissed, "What is it?"

"How did you end up… Erm… Seeing Bellatrix?" Hermione asked. Fleur snorted.

"You needn't act so scandalised," Fleur snapped, "I'm hardly the first she has had. She is the only one who would employ me. I need money to get out of this country and back to my family. Veela… They are not safe in this new world. I need to be with them and keep them safe."

"I get that," Hermione replied, "But why _sleep_ with her? What about your husband?"

"My marriage is no longer legal," Fleur said dully, looking away, "And Bill has his own family to look after. Bellatrix… She wanted me. What she asks for, I oblige."

"Why not try to escape?" Hermione asked, still thrown by this entire situation. Fleur met her eyes then, her eyes flashing tempestuously.

"Maybe I like it now," Fleur replied, "She is good in bed. She looks after me. What else do I need in this fucked up world?"

Hermione felt the air rush out of her lungs at that. She certainly hadn't expected that revelation. Now she had a chance to look at her up close, Fleur didn't look like Fleur. She still looked beautiful and graceful, her Veela blood assured her of that. But the look in her eyes… She looked broken.

"What if I could help you out?" Hermione asked quietly. Fleur frowned.

"What do you not understand?" Fleur replied, pulling against her bonds irritably, "I'm _safe_ with her. I belong to her."

"Fleur…" Hermione said softly, her heart breaking for the blonde. She cupped the blonde's face, "What has she done to you?"

"Seriously—Do I know you?!" Fleur demanded, tugging at the binds securing her to the headboard, "I answered your stupid question… Keep your end of the bargain or I'll tell Bellatrix you were in her room."

Hermione nodded, silently casting the spell that dissolved the bonds. Fleur immediately pulled a sheet up to cover her body before nursing her wrists, red with rope burn.

"You don't belong to her," Hermione murmured, shaking her head. Fleur looked up at Hermione bitterly.

"Get out of here," Fleur replied darkly.

Hermione swallowed heavily, unsure of what to do. Fleur's complicated attitude towards Bellatrix had put her off revealing her identity to the blonde. But her heart was aching for Fleur. The Frenchwoman had painstakingly nursed Hermione back to health when she had escaped Bellatrix's torture. She had healed her, fed her, cuddled her to sleep when she had night terrors. It pained Hermione to see her saviour in the clutches of Bellatrix. Why was she so beaten down that she had accepted Bellatrix's hold on her? Hermione shuddered to think.

"I can help you," Hermione offered quietly, "With anything I mean. If you ever need a thing, just let me know."

Fleur scoffed.

"I know what you Death Eaters are like," Fleur retorted, "Now go."

Hermione stepped back finally, pulling the curtain back. She slowly walked back to the doorway of Bellatrix's room. As she reached the doorway, she heard the quiet sniffling resume.

* * *

Hermione lay on her back on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was days later and not much had changed.

Bellatrix and Rudolphus had returned from their meeting with Voldemort in terrible spirits, cursing their staff with reckless abandon and throwing china around the dining room. The day after, Draco and Pansy had placated them with their lead on the whereabouts of Luna.

The other group had been working overtime to try and get their own lead and had scarcely been seen since news of the Luna lead. That left Draco, Pansy, Ron, Hermione and the Lestranges to hang around the Manor themselves.

Hermione had filled Ron in on Fleur and the strange Stockholme Syndrome-like attitude she had been exhibiting. Ron didn't understand why Fleur had no interest in escaping, struggling to deal with the thought of Fleur willingly conceding to being Bellatrix's sexual partner.

Hermione's mind hadn't been on much else during the recent down time. Her mind was constantly on Fleur and her situation.

This morning, Hermione was thinking back to her time at Shell Cottage in Fleur's care. Days of hazy memories as she had been nursed back from the brink by Fleur. Tears stinging her eyes as Fleur had whispered sweet French words to her, carefully rubbing a soothing balm onto the deep cuts on her arm. She remembered waking in the dead of night, screaming at night terrors, and the way that Fleur would hold her tightly against her until she felt safe enough to fall back to sleep.

If Hermione were honest with herself, part of her had fallen in love with Fleur back then. She felt like Fleur had taken a piece of her heart during that time and she hadn't quite felt whole since.

But she hadn't had time to dwell on it. The Battle of Hogwarts had happened. The soul crushing loss of Harry and being forced into living on the run with Ron.

Now of course, all the painful thoughts she had pushed down were bubbling up to the surface. The reminders of her torture were in the very air of the Manor. Fleur, once the glimmering light in Hermione's darkness, was now a broken woman. She was sleeping with Bellatrix, the very woman who had tortured Hermione. That fact alone made Hermione burn with injustice, jealousy and hurt.

_'__I need to focus on the greater good,'_ Hermione told herself. Fleur was just another casualty of the war. Other good people had met far worse fates than her. She was alive wasn't she? Fed and sheltered? Hermione couldn't say the same of Tonks… Of Lupin… Of Harry himself.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes again and she blinked them back.

"Everything is so fucked up," Hermione whispered to herself, wiping at her eyes and sitting up. She really needed a wine.

After Ron had disappeared in search of a beer the other evening, he had informed her that they had free access to drinks in the smoking room.

This was where Hermione set out for now. She passed Draco and Ron squabbling over a Wizard Chess set in the dining room. She rolled her eyes. As much as Ron was trying to get along with Draco for the sake of keeping their cover, he couldn't quite manage it.

Hermione made it into the smoking room, heading over to a drinks cabinet and finding the red wine she desired. She poured herself a generous glass, hair standing up on the back of her neck as she sensed a presence behind her.

"I've been wondering when I would run into you on your own," Bellatrix husked behind her. Hermione shivered before turning to face the villainess.

"I was going to drink this in my quarters," Hermione tried, feigning a casual attitude.

"Nonsense," Bellatrix waved a hand at Hermione, "Hester, I must insist you sit down for a drink and a talk with me. I think we have much to discuss."

Hermione's stomach sank as she nodded.


End file.
